Thursday, 19 June 2014

The following post reads a bit… jaded for
some reason. I’m not sure why, but it is what it is and looking at it now, I
don’t want to compromise the integrity of the orginal piece of work so, for
better or worse, here it is.

DYC8 is a blended
Spanish whisky (yes, such a thing exists) that I actively looked for when I
went to Spain on the Golfageddon excursion
last July. You can read a little more
about how that came about here. Now though, it is time to give you my
critical appraisal of this product.

It is made from a
combination of malts and distilled cereals which, as the name suggests, are
aged (separately) for a minimum of 8 years, and is bottled at a standard 40%
ABV.

DYC also produces 3
and 5 year old blends, a pure malt with no age statement and a 10 year old
single malt, that last of which you can also read a little about in the Golfageddon post.

They are all pretty
cheap – the single malt was something like 14 euros and the DYC8 a mere 11
euros, so you’re looking at a bargain whatever – unless it’s really bad, but little can be that
bad.

Presentation: A
chunky green bottle with a red label, and its 8 years displayed proudly.
There’s also a bit of a description on the back. As is par for the course for
blends, the cap is a metal screwcap, but sadly my bottle came equipped with one
of those Spanish pour resistors.

Colour: What does it matter what colour a whisky is? It
doesn’t. Nevertheless, to that end, it is fairly pale and the bottle is tinted
green, correspondingly.

Nose: Literally
seems to smell of nothing; there could be a tiny bit of vanilla, but all whisky
seems to smell of that these days – I suppose that’s the wood. Some weeks after
opening I noticed a smell of stale pants – like when you’re doing the laundry
and get a whiff of something particularly pungent. I’m thinking this must be down
to something in production since I noticed the same thing in a bottle of white
rum recently. I suppose part of my failing in nosing is that I do often recognise
scents in my spirits, but I can’t place them. Then, when I go for a second
sniff the smell is gone. And it’s not really there anyway.

Palate: I’ve been
spoilt with some decent blends recently – namely the delicate gems White Horse
and Jim McEwan’s Symphony – but this one disappoints in comparison. It lacks a
bit of sweetness, and what I originally thought were weak but pleasant
botanical flavours later became extremely unpleasant
and aniseedy. I don’t like aniseed, and even if I did, I don’t think I’d like
to taste it in my whisky. There’s also something a little buttery about it.

Finish: Not
particularly much.

A couple of other
blogs suggested this blend might be conceived for drinking with ice – given how
hot it is in Spain much of the time - so
I figured I’d best try it in that manner. There are however a couple of
problems with that. First, I don’t want to drink my whisky with ice, so it’s
not really something I have any need for.
Second; ice doesn’t actually improve it at all.

Conclusion: DYC has
been consigned to the duggie section of my liquor cabinet for occasions when I
know my tasting faculties aren’t up to much or I just want a drink without
having to waste the good stuff. I’m just not really sure what this is for
unless it’s for making cocktails, and I’m not even sure it would lend itself
too well to that. It’s certainly cheap enough to use for that – but is that
enough to justify its existence? It isn’t baaaad
as such… it just isn’t good either.

I didn’t get chance
to do a full review of the DYC10, but I do remember enjoying that to an extent
so if you find yourself in Spain, with a choice between the two, I strongly
recommend you pay that extra 3 euros and get the single malt. I would get
something else but of course, I’ve tried both now, and why double up when
there’s a whole world of whisky that needs drinking?

Thanks for joining
me once again. Next week’s post is currently intended to be entirely about Jack
Daniel’s Old No 7. Hopefully it will be a little more enthusiastic than this
week’s. Join me then, to find out if it is.

Thursday, 12 June 2014

A quick bonus
mid-week post for you now, let’s say to
celebrate the beginning of the World Cup. My love for hip flasks is no secret
of course so, inspired by footage of Chris O’Dowd chugging from one at some
awards ceremony or other, I thought I’d post a link to that, and in the name of encouraging
you to join the hip flask family, give you a quick guide to all the things you
need to know.

Think about size. I wouldn’t get one that was too small, as you’re
barely going to get a buzz before you have to refill it. Conversely, I’ve
seen some that look like they would hold a full bottle of spirits… so what’s
the point? Too big to secrete in your pocket and, frankly, too much
spirits for a man to drink on a night out in addition to his other drinks…
surely?

You don’t have to, but I recommend you get one that has a cap attached. You’re not going to drop
it, and you’re not going to have any trouble screwing it back on. The
first hip flask I had had a free cap and it could take 5 minutes to slot
it back into the grooves correctly.

When you’ve bought one, make sure you clean it out before you use
it. Otherwise you might die.

When deciding what to load your hip flask with, think about quality.
Don’t be putting your finest, most expensive spirit in there as it isn’t
going to taste as good as from a nice glass. The hip flask is your chance
to chug on some of your lower quality stuff without noticing how bad it
might taste.

Determine the capacity of your hip flask before filling. This will
help you to avoid spillage and waste of precious alcohol. To do so, fill
your hip flask with water, then empty it into a measuring jug, taking note
of the amount of liquid that fills the jug. Then you can fill the jug with
booze to the same level and load into your hip flask.

If you have a funnel for filling your hip flask, make sure you hold
the funnel, leaving a space between it and the mouth of the flask. Not
doing so will cause the funnel to overflow, spilling your precious
beverage. The reason for this is science.

If you are concerned that you might be taking a hip flask somewhere
that it might not be appreciated and you might be searched, carry a bag,
but keep your hip flask in the pocket of your clothes. If you are
searched, you will tend to find that they search your bag and not your clothes.

Go forth and top up your buzz, on the cheap, like a boss. But be
warned, you might end up getting hammered, which is probably the point
anyway.

Ok, let’s hear it
for the hip flask. See you later in the week, or early next week for the post I
promised in my last one.

Monday, 9 June 2014

One thing EU
travellers have to contend with when traveling to North America, that isn’t a
problem when staying within the boundaries of the EU, is that of limits to what
you can bring home. When returning from the US or Canada, it’s a measly one
litre – per person. So much to try, so little time. I suppose it’s lucky I did
marry a Canadian, since it means I’ll be able to visit Canada fairly frequently
– I could have married someone from China, where they make baiju… that I’ve
tried about enough of, thank you very much.

Yes, deciding what
to bring home is one of the most exciting parts of the booze tourism
experience. I had done my research as usual, and had become overwhelmed with
all the choices, so instead of researching the fuck out of it, I stopped when I
had a modest shortlist to choose from, and kept it on my phone.

My original
intention was one Canadian whisky and one bourbon, but a couple of visits to
liquor stores suggested choice among bourbons was not that extensive. Then I
realised we were planning a trip to Florida in 2014, so why not wait until
then? Two Canadian whiskies then, I said. Not that I’m expecting there to be
liquor stores in Disneyland (that could be an interesting post…), but there’s
always the Duty Free.

I ended up making
one of my purchases on the second day, returning to the Liquor Depot in Woodbine
to pick up the Lot 40 that the shop assistant had been so keen on. It had
actually been on my list all along, so I just decided to plump for it. Any
plans to hold out for the Masterson’s 10 evaporated, and I ultimately didn’t
see that in any of the many liquor stores we ended up visiting anyway.

Lot 40 is bottled at
a cockle-warming 43%, which makes a nice change from most of the Canadian
whiskies I saw, and I ended up paying in excess of 50 Canadian dollars (around
£30). I later learned that this was 10 dollars too much, but whatever, the
damage had been done by then.

Lot 40 has garnered
a lot of interest and praise around the internet, so I’m looking forward to
being able to add my voice to the deafening tumult in the coming months.

At this point I
realised there was a very real possibility that someone might buy me a bottle
of whisky for Christmas, meaning I was going to have to hold off on any further
purchases. I waited, sipping the Alberta Springs 10 and Canadian ’83, expecting
that, should anyone buy me a bottle, it would be a Crown Royal – which I didn’t
mind, though I would prefer to be able to try something else. Nevertheless,
just wait and see.

Waiting, waiting –
during which time it transpired we would be taking the Highland Park 12 that we
had bought for Mrs Cake’s dad back with us – you see, one of the bottles he
wanted me to finish was a Highland Park 12 with just about three fingers left.
I remarked that he gave the bottle a good go, despite not being fond of it, but
he said the guy who brought it actually drank all that. Would the extra bottle
cause problems on re-entry to the UK? We had bought it in the UK, and therefore
already paid tax and duty so… hopefully it wouldn’t come to that.

Highwood Centennial, "Limited Edition"

Christmas Day
arrived, and thiswas my whisky gift. It’s a limited
edition known as Centennial from
Highwood Distillers. I haven’t been able to find out any information in terms
of what’s ‘limited’ about it, but it’s 40% ABV, and I’m going to assume it is
aged for 10 years, since there is a 10 year old expression that looks identical. It is presented in an elegant
grappa-style bottle with an extra long neck, which means it doesn’t fit in my
special cupboard. Good pick though, Mrs Cake’s mum, good pick indeed. This is
one that I might well have picked out for myself... though it hadn’t made it on
to my list.

Highwood are based
in the small town of High River, Alberta and they make other spirits such as
vodka and rum as well as whisky. I had e-mailed them to enquire about taking a
tour in advance of our holiday, but they responded in no uncertain terms that
they wouldn’t be doing any tours for the time-being due to the damaging floods
that devastated the area in the summer. Fair play, though I’m sorry to say the
tone of the e-mail didn’t make me too keen to attempt a visit on any future
occasion either.

Holy shit. Right?

So, you’d think that
would be it, wouldn’t you? One whisky for me to take home, one for Mrs Cake to
take on my behalf, and then one to take back with us that had been a failed
gift attempt… but, no. Christmas with Mrs Cake’s father (and wife) arrived a few
days later and what’s this? Another bottle of whisky. Not Canadian this time
though. This is a 2011 Berry Bros and Rudd bottling of a 1979 Bunnahabhain (51.4%
ABV) – exclusive to Calgary’s Willow Park liquor store, or apparently not since
I found something remarkably similar (though out of stock) on Master of Malt.

This is 32 years old! It made me feel a bit awkward, to be honest.
What’s Mrs Cake’s dad doing buying me a 32 year old single malt? My initial
estimate was that this could have cost up to £200, which is just far too much
to be spending on a Christmas gift for your son-in-law – not to mention the
book and glencairn glasses that were packaged with it. The Master of Malt
listing had it at £150 (which is still far too much), but we couldn’t resist stopping
at Willow Park a few days later to see if they still had it. They did, and it
was somewhere around 150 Canadian dollars – which was more like £90. Frankly,
that’s still too much. The only thing
that would make me feel better would be if this was a re-gift. It’s rude to
ask, but I’m just going to assume it’s a re-gift so that I can enjoy it to the
full. I never thought I’d own a 30 year old malt, but here it is. One source
(Jim Murray, I think) suggests that Bunnahabhain doesn’t carry extended aging
so well but, as ever, I will be the judge of that. Thanks John.

Well that would have
to be it for our check-in luggage. Hopefully that wouldn’t be too much for the
customs, and if it was, I’d be prepared to pay the duty – as long as they
didn’t take my precious booze away.

Being the obsessive
booze-hound that I am, I was tempted not to finish even there. You see, our
flights were via Frankfurt, and on our outward journey I had seen the Duty Free
shops had two of Highland Park’s exclusive
to international travel expressions. I’ve been dying to try them, and I happen to have a 0% credit card at the
moment so I figured I’d pick one up on the way home. Since Frankfurt is in
Europe, it seemed logical that I should be able to take as much booze as I wanted
from there back to the UK – right?

When we arrived at
Frankfurt Mrs Cake was feeling unwell, and I was tired and starting to feel the
guilt – you know, when suddenly you think actually
I don’t think I can justify spending another £50 on booze for myself.

I deliberated and
writhed in turmoil for a couple of hours while Mrs Cake slept. When she awoke
and requested ginger ale (Canadian cure-all medicine) and mints, I toddled off
to a couple of shops looking for them then, having been successful, decided I’d
reward myself not with the Highland Park, but with some cigars.

The point of all
this is that they wouldn’t let me buy any tax free goods. I was in too much of
a hurry and too tired to ask why, but it was probably because Frankfurt was
only a stop on the journey, so I wouldn’t have been able to buy the Highland
Park anyway… and they probably
wouldn’t have let me buy the Wild Turkey that time in Dubai Airport.
Oh well.

Hours later we
arrived home, and I needed to unpack my booze as soon as possible – both to make
sure it had all survived intact, and to stand the bottles the right way up so
that the alcohol wouldn’t damage the cork stoppers (where appropriate), which
in turn wouldn’t damage the precious liquid.

It had been around
48 hours since we’d wrapped each bottle in bubble-wrap, then in clothes, then
vacuum packed them and I’d been trying not to think about them since.

At home, my
combination padlock was stuck fast and I couldn’t release it. It took a
combination of hacksaw, hammer, screwdriver and snips to do enough damage to
finally convince it to give way, and every bottle was undamaged. Aaaaand relax.

Miscellaneous Observations and Curiosities

So a lot of people
have been asking my how my trip was, and in typical Yorkshire style, I’ve been
tending to play it down.

“Yeh, it was good,” I say, “it
had its moments.”

Yes it did, and yes
, it was cold… some of the time. It was nowhere near as bad as the pictures
coming out of the United States the week after we left, and I understand it was
worse in Toronto and Manitoba than where we were, but it did get down below -20
from time to time. I say ‘from time to time’ because in Calgary the temperature
fluctuates wildly from one day to the next. In fact, they regularly experience chinook winds, which are hot winds that
can raise the temperature dramatically in a very short time. These have been
known to cause temperatures to increase by as much as 40 degress Celsius in as
little as an hour.

So one day we might
walk, freezing across a car park and get into the car to find the worst effects
were carried in our jeans – which hold the cold and then transfer it to your
legs when you sit down. The next day, the temperature might have risen to -3,
when you go outside and say this is
positively balmy. I’d sunbathe in
this.

The Canadians, funny
people that they are, have leather seats
in a lot of their cars. Leather seats at
the temperatures they have to contend with – so they have to have heating
mechanisms in them. Honestly, just get your car seats made out of regular
fabric.

What else? Beers.
Yes, I drank lots of different kinds of Canadian beer, but I haven’t talked
about it so far, and for very good reason; generally I don’t, and I didn’t keep
any kind of record. The Big Rock Traditional Ale is a particularly good one,
but in general they successfully tread the difficult line between good lager
and refreshing ale. There were even a number of decent IPAs and double IPAs.

A quick much of a muchness update

In advance of our
trip to the mountains, Mrs Cake decided to contribute to the spirit collection
by buying a bottle of the Grey Goose. It’s quite a pricey vodka here in the UK,
but temptingly cheap over in Canada. It’s one of them I’ve been curious about
trying, but have never quite been up to stumping up that price tag.

Grey Goose is
French, and according to its website, “made using only the very finest
ingredients”. It also claims a “signature smoothness and distinct character”.

Yeah… I don’t like
it. I’m not saying it doesn’t have a distinct character; that awful, floral flavour
is something I’ll never forget –and hope never to experience again, but it’s
that same flavour that to me is the opposite of smoothness.

I’ll say one thing
for Grey Goose; their website has a tool for selecting your ideal cocktail.
Based on my stipulations that I want something salty, earthy, strong and rich…
it tells me I want a Grey Goose Spicy Pineapple and Fig Martini, and you know
what? That is what I want. Perhaps
with a different vodka though.

So anyway, it’s 40%,
and comes in a fancy bottle bearing multi-layered images of geese. It’s a bit
ridiculous. I don’t recommend it.

I’ll leave you then,
with two observations about Canada that you might find interesting. First, you
can’t buy your booze in the supermarket; you have to go to a liquor store. Oddly though, some of the liquor stores
are clearly affiliated with the supermarkets, and situated on the same lot.
Sadly, this means there are no
supermarket own-brands to try.

Finally, they have UFC on TV… in restaurants. Now, I do
love watching a bit of the MMA, but for Christ’s sake, not while I’m eating!

So that’s it for
this week. Thanks for joining me once again. If you’ve been following me on the
Twitter you might have noticed that I’ve just got back from Spain where purchasing
booze was very much on the agenda. I’m looking forward to telling you all about
that in what will probably turn out to be a few months’ time. Whatever. Just
make sure you come back here next week for something else. I don’t know what
yet, but something else. Alright, cool.

Definitions

What happens when you zone out after having had a cheeky lunchtime pint.

Alcothusiast:

Not an alcoholic, someone who appreciates booze.

Anxiety, The:

The uneasy feeling that accompanies any noteworthy hangover.

Booze Buffet Mentality:

The propensity people have to go nuts whenever there's a free bar.

Booze Porn:Photos of alcohol.

Bread Chest:Not booze related, but this term describes the indigestion you get from eating too many bread products too quickly. Just putting it out there...

Crawler's Block:The inability to decide where to go next during a pub crawl - often resulting in crawl stagnation and someone saying, "shall we just have another one here?"

Crawl Stagnation:The result of failing to plan a pub crawl sufficiently - lack of a route, theme or over-familiarity with nearby pubs can all be contributing factors.

Excess Induced Alcohol Aversion:An intolerance for a drink caused (usually) by one occasion of overindulgence.

The Family:My whisky collection.

MOMA:

Moment of Maximum Appreciation. Every bottle has one. It's the time you drink it where you enjoy it most.

Old Man Pub:Traditional British pub, renowned for being quiet, cosy and frequented by old men. Much favoured by people who like a nice chat while they drink.Psychological Drinks Cabinet:Collective term relating to the kinds of alcoholic drinks a person has need for.Road Beers:

Cans of beer that you take with you when you go out, to consume on the way.

The 3 Types of Rum:White, gold and dark. Together they form the base of many a great cocktail.

About Me

Neil Cake is interested in all types of booze, but is by no means an authority or expert. Most of the time he's just trying to be funny, but he is learning, and enjoys sharing his adventures and what he learns on the Drink it How You Like it blog.
Thengyuverrymuuuuuch.